


You are the Breath in my Lungs

by epeolatry



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, Breathplay, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Service Submission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:59:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeolatry/pseuds/epeolatry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is stressed at work. R wants to help him relax with a nice dinner and a hot bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Enjolras was exhausted. He trudged up the communal stairs to the flat he shared with his boyfriend, a waft of warm cooking somewhere in the block pervading the air and making his belly growl.

When he opened the front door he noticed two things almost in the same moment; firstly the delicious smell of cooking was coming from his own flat, and secondly Grantaire was kneeling, naked and supplicant, just inside the doorway awaiting his arrival.

Enjolras dropped his bag and rushed over to Grantaire, reaching out to stroke the dark curls soothingly, “What’s wrong love? Are you okay? What’s happened?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” smiled Grantaire, looking up at Enjolras with adoration rather than fear or hurt in his eyes, “It’s you I’m worried about. You’ve been working too hard lately, I know this case has you run off your feet. So I thought, what can I do to make Enjolras feel better? Obviously I came to the conclusion that a nice dinner followed by beating the crap out of me might help.”

Enjolras sighed fondly and scratched behind Grantaire’s ear as his sub grinned up at him, “Thank you. That sounds… lovely, actually. I may not have the energy to beat you tonight but I’d love to do a scene. What did you have in mind?”

“Um… I thought we could try a little service submission? I know it’s not really your thing but seeing as you’re tired it might be nice to just… let me take care of you,” Grantaire lowered his eyes sheepishly.

“That sounds perfect. Do you want sex to be a part of it?”

“Not necessarily, not if you’re too tired,” said Grantaire, “But I’d like it if, um, you took a bit of your frustration out on me. I think you need it, and I’m more than happy to be your whipping boy. Literally, if you want.”

“Okay love, I’m in. I assume you don’t want any control over the scene?”

Grantaire shook his head fervently, “No, I still want you to be in charge. But I thought I could get you dinner and maybe run you a bath?”

“Perfect,” Enjolras tipped Grantaire’s chin up to meet his eyes, “I love you. Ready to play?”

“Yes sir. I love you too,” Grantaire smiled earnestly as Enjolras petted his curls gently one last time.

“Good boy. Now go fetch my dinner. I want you to crawl to the kitchen but you may walk when you bring the plate to me in the living room.”

Easy content settled over Grantaire’s face and he crawled towards the kitchen, shifting his hips just so, making sure that Enjolras’ approving eye was drawn to the curve of his bare arse.

Enjolras felt a similar peace settle over him as he calmly toed off his shoes, hung up his coat, and made his way into the living room, where he picked up the book he’d been halfway through before this nightmare of a case had begun a month ago, and settled himself on the worn leather sofa. A moment later Grantaire appeared, his head bowed and a large plate of pasta held out before him.

“Good boy,” Enjolras praised as Grantaire knelt and presented the food to him, remaining on the floor even after Enjolras took the plate from him, “This looks wonderful. Come closer, I want you right between my knees.” The student spread his legs a little wider, allowing Grantaire to slot between them and rest his head on Enjolras’ thigh like a dog, an impression only heightened by the glad little whimper that escaped the artist.

Enjolras began to eat, occasionally passing down little bites to Grantaire who took them from him willingly; he smiled fondly at his boyfriend even as a shiver of predatory lust passed down his spine, a precursor to the scene that was beginning to form in his mind.

“I like having you here,” Enjolras admitted once he was finished the meal and no longer able to hide his growing erection as Grantaire shyly rubbed his cheek against the inside of the student’s thigh, “It’s where you belong isn’t it? At my feet, with your head between my legs…”

Another little noise of contentment escaped Grantaire as his eyes drifted closed in bliss. Enjolras carded a soft hand through the dark, unruly curls before saying conversationally, “Would you like to suck my cock?”

Grantaire’s eyes flew open and he unconsciously licked his lips as he looked up at Enjolras with a look of such awed supplication that liquid heat pooled instantly in the pit of Enjolras’s stomach. He almost gave in and allowed Grantaire to wrap those perfectly sinful lips around him then and there, but that wasn’t part of tonight’s plan so he resisted and instead barked sternly, “Well you’ll have to earn it. Prove that you’re a good boy and I might allow you the privilege of sucking me off.”

Grantaire moaned quietly in his throat, the glazed look falling back across his dark eyes as he stared up at Enjolras, desperate to know what was required of him but not daring to speak.

Enjolras smirked, “Good boy, you’re learning already. Now stand up.”

Grantaire did so.

“So beautiful,” murmured Enjolras, because he was happy to call the artist a filthy slut if that was what he liked, but he refused to do so without first reinforcing Grantaire’s fragile self esteem.

“Say it!” Enjolras barked so harshly that Grantaire could not help but obey.

“I’m beautiful,” he murmured to the floor, cheeks pinkening in a way that his nudity and abasement had failed to evince.

“Yes you are,” approved Enjolras, “And you’re mine. My beautiful boy who is going to go and run a nice, hot bath for his master to relax in. Now.”

Grantaire looked up eagerly, “Yes sir.”

Enjolras admired Grantaire’s retreating back as he scampered away, waiting until the artist reached the hallway before calling out in a voice that made Grantaire jump sharply, “Remember, nice and hot! When it’s ready come back out and let me know.”

Grantaire nodded, looking positively joyful. A few moments later Enjolras heard the splash of the bathtub being filled.

By the time Grantaire reappeared (crawling again), Enjolras had finished two more chapters of his book and was feeling warm and content. The student stood, pausing for the barest moment to give Grantaire reassuring pat on the head, then strode to the bathroom with Grantaire at his heels.

Grantaire had been a very good boy indeed; the room was full of perfumed steam, rising steadily from the bathtub which was full of bubbles. The lights were dimmed and candles had been lit, and Grantaire had even laid out a fluffy bathmat and two neatly folded towels. Enjolras was touched by Grantaire’s initiative but now was not the time for giving heartfelt thanks, so he limited himself to saying, “You’ve done very well.”

Grantaire beamed.

Enjolras dipped a hand into the bubbly water and sighed, “Perfect. Now as you’ve been so good you can have a reward. Stand up and come here.”

Grantaire stood gingerly, his knees sore from the tiled floor, and Enjolras made a mental note to be more mindful, though Grantaire didn’t seem bothered by the pain. The artist kept his eyes downcast and Enjolras took his stubbled chin in his fingers, forcing Grantaire to look at him.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” he said seriously. He stroked Grantaire’s cheek affectionately then slapped him, not too hard but hard enough to get Grantaire’s attention, making him gasp and making his cock stir (a reaction that Enjolras did not fail to notice, nor make another mental note of).

“You’ve been good and good boys deserve to be rewarded,” murmured Enjolras, stroking a light finger over Grantaire’s lower lip and allowing the artist to press a reverent kiss to the pad of it, “You may undress me.”

Grantaire did so very slowly, beginning by unbuttoning Enjolras’ shirt and sliding it carefully off the bronzed shoulders. He folded the garment with a level of care that Enjolras had never known Grantaire to be capable of, so creased were his own clothes usually. Then he gently unzipped the fly of Enjolras’ trousers and slid them down and off, again carefully folding them and putting them aside. Enjolras was barefoot already and was now wearing only his boxer shorts, but Grantaire paused before this final barrier.

“Go on,” Enjolras encouraged, canting his hips forward in invitation.

Licking his lips, Grantaire obeyed, taking his time in divesting Enjolras of the underwear until they both stood naked in the warm, humid room. Grantaire’s cock was standing to full attention after the slap and the slow strip, and Enjolras wasn’t far behind. He reached down and tugged himself a few times, casually bringing his cock to full hardness as Grantaire watched hungrily.

Enjolras stepped into the steaming tub and gingerly lowered himself into the water, unable to stop a little sigh of happiness from escaping his lips as he sank back into the warmth and the perfumed foam.

“Come here,” he beckoned to Grantaire, “Take one of those towels – good – now lay it out on the floor and kneel on it. If I wanted to damage your knees I’d be fucking you on the living room carpet and giving you rug burn. No, I want your knees well looked after so you’re always ready to serve me like this.”

Grantaire knelt at the side of the tub as Enjolras leaned back luxuriously, his cock bobbing obscenely in the soapy water and a smug smile on his handsome face as he fisted a hand around himself and began stroking again. Grantaire licked his lips helplessly and Enjolras was gratified to note that the artist was hard as a rock despite the fact that the student had not so much as kissed him yet.

“Do you want to touch me?” invited Enjolras in a low voice.

Grantaire nodded dumbly, his eyes wide with desperate lust.

“Do you think you’ve earned it?”

Grantaire remained stock still, unwilling to volunteer praise for himself.

“I think you’ve been very good this evening,” encouraged Enjolras, not giving Grantaire enough time to second guess himself, “It’s not your fault you’re such a dirty cock slut, you can’t help it. Filth. But my cock deserves the best, so if you want to touch it you’ll have to clean yourself up first. Come in here.”

The tub was big, an old rolltop that was both deep and long enough to accommodate two bodies easily. Grantaire climbed in behind Enjolras and let out a little sigh of happiness as he was encompassed by the warm water. It was possibly this momentary lapse in discipline that caused him to reach out and grasp Enjolras’ cock.

It was exactly what Enjolras had hoped would happen and he reacted sharply, turning and slapping Grantaire wetly around the face and hissing, “Dirty whore! Did I say you could touch me yet? Now you’re going to have to earn your way back into my good graces.”

Grantaire whimpered and the noise was so appealing that Enjolras almost changed his mind and begged to be touched again, but no. Stick to the scene. It would be worth the wait.

“Since you’ve just touched me with your filthy hand you’re going to have to wash me. And I warn you to be thorough, because if I’m not suitably impressed you’ll be staying here alone and untouched until the water goes cold, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Grantaire shuddered, then picked up a loofah, “May I, sir?”

Enjolras nodded imperiously, closing his eyes and leaning his head back onto Grantaire’s chest to expose the magnificent line of his neck in a way that he knew would drive Grantaire to the very edge of temptation.

The loofah rasped lightly over the thin skin of his exposed throat, tracing just below his jawline then slipping down to rub soothing circles over his chest. Grantaire was diligent in his work, carefully soaking every inch of skin, kneading every muscle, even scrubbing Enjolras’ fingernails. When he reached Enjolras’ groin he kept his touch professional, not daring to risk anything more though he desperately wanted to. He gently doused Enjolras’ golden hair in the warm water then shampooed it with lithe fingers, massaging the student’s scalp so expertly that Enjolras let out a little moan of pleasure. When Grantaire had done all he could from behind he hoisted himself out of the tub and slid back in facing his boyfriend to repeat the process at his front. By the time he was finished the bubbles had all faded away and the water was cooling; Enjolras felt more happy and relaxed than he had in weeks.

“Done,” murmured Grantaire shyly and Enjolras opened his eyes. He was surprised to see that Grantaire was still hard after so long, though his own erection had subsided.

“What a good boy,” he praised lightly, “You’ve made me very happy. My good, clean boy. Come here and kiss me.”

Grantaire surged forward, water sloshing around them as he released an entire evening’s worth of sexual tension into Enjolras’ lips. Enjolras kissed back just as hard, needing to show Grantaire how much he appreciated him and enjoyed their games. Tongues licked messily into mouths, the hungry kiss made slick by the water dripping down both bodies, and Enjolras tangled his hands tightly in Grantaire’s damp curls, anchoring the artist to him and refusing to let go until they were both dizzy from oxygen deprivation.

“Please can I suck you off?” begged Grantaire as they broke apart, catching Enjolras slightly off guard with his bold eagerness, “Please sir, you said I’ve been good, please!”

Grantaire was taking shuddering breaths, his eyes wild and pleading and his lips red from the bruising kiss. His cock curved stiffly upward and Enjolras knew how much it must be aching and throbbing after so much frustration, but that was what Grantaire had wanted. Enjolras felt himself harden at the thought.

“Go ahead, but- ” Enjolras said sternly as Grantaire threw himself forward, “I am not moving You’ll have to do the best you can without getting out of the tub.”

Grantaire dived down, ducking his head under the water without hesitation and taking Enjolras’s cock in his mouth, which was hotter than the water now and certainly more stimulating.

Enjolras had been intending to lightly ratchet up their experimentation in breathplay by merely suggesting this to Grantaire, but god, he needed to stop underestimating Grantaire’s willingness to do these things! He had expected a moment of confusion, a timeout called, an explanation made, a negotiation being reached, then possibly an enactment, but Grantaire was enthusiasm personified, treating Enjolras to his usual masterful technique but all on a lungful of air that Enjolras would never have believed the smoker capable of.

Enjolras groaned deeply and tentatively placed a gentle hand on the back of Grantaire’s head, gauging his reaction. When Grantaire made no move to shake off the weight (indeed, he began lasciviously curling his tongue around the wet shaft of Enjolras’ cock as he sucked the head deeper into his mouth), Enjolras applied a little more pressure, pushing Grantaire down onto himself just so.

“God yes,” hissed Enjolras, unsure whether or not Grantaire could hear him from underwater but hoping that he could, “That feels amazing, you’re so good at that!”

He twisted his fingers into Grantaire’s soaked curls, securing his hold on the artist and pushing his head down more roughly, forcing him to take Enjolras all the way in. Grantaire did so with a strange gargling sort of whimper, and Enjolras made sure even in his state of near wordlessness to keep his grip on Grantaire firm but not as tight as usual, so the artist could force his way to the surface if need be.

Grantaire however seemed determined to please Enjolras by not taking the easy way out, and after what seemed like a dangerously long time for Grantaire to be submerged Enjolras felt a twinge of concern colouring his ecstasy at how willingly his boyfriend was going along with this. He tightened his grip sharply, yanking Grantaire up by his hair and scowling threateningly as the artist broke the surface of the water with a great, gasping breath, His hair was drenched and clung wetly to his red face while droplets of water streamed off his shoulders and down his tattooed chest. His breathing was laboured, heaving with the effort of staying submerged for so long, but his eyes were glinting triumphantly and he was grinning open-mouthed as he sucked in air.

“Breathe, bitch!” Enjolras commanded, “You’re no use to me if you drown!”

“Your wish…” panted Grantaire, still grinning as Enjolras pushed him back down, his hot mouth closing eagerly over Enjolras’s aching cock and causing the student’s hips to buck upwards. Enjolras tugged sharply at Grantaire’s hair, not to bring him back up but just because he knew the artist loved it (and he loved the low, throaty hum that was dragged out of his boyfriend).

Grantaire’s hands were held loosely at the base of his spine out of habit, one wrist crossed over the other in an unconscious attitude of obedience that Enjolras usually did nothing to discourage. Tonight however he needed more, and he leaned over Grantaire’s bobbing head to grasp his wrists insistently, grunting, “Your hands,” and hoping that Grantaire would hear him. Grantaire understood regardless and quickly plunged his hands underwater to grasp the base of Enjolras’ cock and massage his balls as his mouth continued to work the sensitive head. The burn in his lungs and the fullness in his mouth kept his own cock hard and heavy – but untouched – between his legs as he worked.

Enjolras gasped as Grantaire pleasured him so expertly, the combination of his mouth, his touch, the new game, and Enjolras’ almost total control over Grantaire’s very life so exhilarating that he was reaching his peak embarrassingly fast. Just as he was trying to focus on anything but the wet, hot, stupidly attractive, and entirely amazing man between his thighs, Grantaire pushed up against the hand holding him down. It was a tiny movement, almost unnoticeable, but Enjolras knew Grantaire well enough to know that it was him being too submissive to ask properly for what he needed; air. Enjolras immediately pulled Grantaire up again, gentler this time, smirking at him as Grantaire took anther heaving, desperate breath, water streaming off him.

“You are so fucking good,” growled Enjolras lowly, the hardness of his cock almost painful with the need for release, “You use your mouth so well… Fuck, look at those slutty lips, like you can’t wait to wrap them back around my dick. Do you want that?”

Grantaire was still catching his breath but he nodded eagerly, continuing to jerk Enjolras off underwater while the student’s fingers tightened in his hair, drawing out a breathy groan.

“Answer me!” demanded Enjolras, yanking hard on Grantaire’s hair.

“Yes!” gasped Grantaire, his voice broken and fucked out already, “Yes, god! Please let me suck you again, please, I want it so bad, I want you to make me choke, want to feel you come down my throat, I want- please, just… please!”

Grantaire’s eyes were wide with desperate need and his cock was straining against his belly as his hand tightened around Enjolras and his strokes became faster.

“Go ahead then, cumslut,” Enjolras nodded imperiously, his impassive face not betraying how dangerously turned on he was by Grantaire’s incoherent begging, “If you need it that badly I’ll allow it. I might even let you swallow.”

Grantaire whimpered a breathy, “Thank you,” and all but dived underwater, taking as much of Enjolras as he could in one well practised swallow. It made Enjolras hiss and convulse in pleasure, his fingers clutching spasmodically in Grantaire’s hair with painful tightness as his hips drove up into Grantaire’s mouth, choking him just as he’d asked. Another wet groan bubbled up to Enjolras, vibrating along his cock as Grantaire swallowed around him, keeping him in his throat for as long as he could while gently toying with Enjolras’ balls.

Enjolras felt his entire body tighten, his cock throbbing with a penultimate rush of blood, and at the very last second he yanked Grantaire up for the third time, hard, the artist whining in surprise as he broke the surface. The high-pitched noise quickly matured into a throaty groan as Enjolras shuddered, “Fuck, ‘Aire!” and came in thick spurts across the artist’s dripping chest, a few stray drops splattering across his throat and chin.

Enjolras collapsed back in the tub, his breathing shallow and his eyes squeezed closed in the aftermath of orgasm. When his eyes flickered open again he saw Grantaire sitting as he’d left him, still covered in Enjolras’ come and wearing a dazed expression. He was still panting heavily and his face was flushed, but as his tongue darted out to catch the mess on his chin a small, contented smile crept over his craggy features.

“You okay?” asked Enjolras huskily.

“Yeah. Dizzy,” replied Grantaire in a quiet, gravelly voice.

“C’mere.”

Grantaire slid obediently up the tub until he was nestled between Enjolras’ outstretched legs. The water was cool between them now, barely lukewarm against their heated skin. Enjolras pulled Grantaire a little closer, ignoring the sticky mess spread across his chest, and wrapped a gentle hand around Grantaire’s rock hard cock. The sudden friction after hours of denial made Grantaire gasp raggedly, and Enjolras tightened his grip, urging Grantaire on, “Come for me. You’ve been so good tonight, such a good boy. Now you only need to do one more thing to make me happy; come for me.”

Grantaire’s eyes were screwed shut and his mouth hung open as he threw back his head and pleaded hoarsely, “Please… I need- please...”

“Shh,” soothed Enjolras, “You’ve been so good and I’m going to give you what you need.”

He closed his free hand softly around Grantaire’s bared throat, feeling his adam’s apple jump against his palm as he squeezed slowly, careful not to apply too much pressure after what Grantaire had just been through. Grantaire rasped out a shaky cry as Enjolras tightened his grip just so, his thumb skating over the head of his cock at the same moment and pushing the artist over the edge.

He floated back to himself dazedly, drifting slowly down from his high to find himself slumped against Enjolras, his head pressed into the student’s chest as little whimpers escaped his raw throat, aching from heaving desperate breaths and submitting to Enjolras’ thrusting. He was beginning to shiver in the rapidly cooling water but he smiled in lazy contentment, basking in the warmth of Enjolras’ skin, the steady splash of water across his chest as Enjolras bathed him clean, the light thread of soft fingers through his wet hair, and the quiet words of praise and reassurance being whispered against his ear.

“- can’t believe you let me do that. You were so, so good to trust me like that. So good Grantaire. You trust me so much and I treasure that, I really do, it’s the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. You’re such a good boy, my good boy.”

“Yours,” mumbled Grantaire sleepily into Enjolras’ chest.

“Yes, mine. I’m never going to let you go,” assured Enjolras quietly, continuing to pet Grantaire’s hair soothingly, “Come on, let’s get you out of here. You’re shaking.”

Enjolras heaved Grantaire into a sitting position and somehow managed to lever them both out of the bathtub, Grantaire’s sleepy limbs close to useless. Enjolras dried off the artist carefully then led him to bed, laying him down with a soft kiss before quickly towelling himself off and joining his boyfriend under the warm press of the covers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More bathroom-based ExR breathplay.

Enjolras and Grantaire were seated at opposite ends of their scrubbed wood dining table sharing a comfortable silence with Enjolras focused on research for an upcoming case and Grantaire languidly sketching. Suddenly the blond looked up, as if taken by a flash of inspiration.

 

“That thing the other night... Did you like it?”

 

Grantaire had always found it endearing that Enjolras, who in-scene had the filthiest mouth of any dom he’d ever known, found it difficult to articulate his sexual mores in everyday life. So of course he played the devil’s advocate.

 

“What, do you mean that new stir fry recipe I tried? Yeah it was good, if I say so myself,” Grantaire casually tipped his chair back onto two legs and smirked; _I’m gonna make you say it._

 

Enjolras’s expression shifted instantly from earnest to arch; _And I’m gonna make you pay for it_.

 

“You _know_ what I’m talking about ‘Aire.”

 

“Do I?” pushed Grantaire, “Y’know, open communication is very important between partners in a relationship, and we should each feel comfortable enough with the other to express ourselves without fear or embarrassment.”

 

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at just how much Grantaire was asking for it. “Fine. _The sex_ , Grantaire, I am referring to the sex we had the other night in the bathroom. Did you enjoy it?”

 

Enjolras still lowered his voice to pronounce the word ‘sex’ like a nervous teenager, and wasn’t that just the most damnably adorable thing Grantaire had ever heard.

 

“Oh, the _SEX_ ,” Grantaire replied airily, emphasising the last word loudly enough to make Enjolras almost wince, “Do you mean the part where you simultaneously drowned me and made me choke on your thick, perfect cock, or afterwards when you jerked me off until I cried and came all over myself?”

 

Enjolras seemed to be holding a blush at bay purely by force of his not inconsiderable will power; Grantaire was having the time of his life. Or he was until Enjolras said in a dangerously calm and measured voice, “I was referring specifically to the breathplay aspect of the scene. The drowning, as you put it. Would you be amenable to a repeat performance?”

 

Grantaire’s grin froze as sudden heat shot through his gut, the reactions stirred by Enjolras’s coldly clinical tone and the memories of that particular scene overtaking his enjoyment of making his lover squirm.

 

“Yes,” Grantaire breathed huskily, and Enjolras’s small, sly smile at that did nothing to help his arousal whatsoever, “So much yes.”

 

“Good.”

 

Enjolras reshuffled some of the notes on the table in front of him and calmly returned to his reading. Silence was restored for a few moments – more strained than content this time - before Grantaire broke it.

 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?”

 

Enjolras didn’t look up from his study, though a smile threatened at the corners of his lips, “I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

 

Grantaire swore under his breath, “You know exactly what I mean, you dick. You can’t just dangle something like that in front of me then go back to playing lawyer.”

 

“I believe our standing arrangement is that I can do just about anything I want,” smirked Enjolras, still pretending to be engrossed in the notes he had made, “And _you_ are expected to be a good boy and wait for my instructions.  Or am I mistaken?”

 

Grantaire cussed again but he was grinning across the table at his lover as he said obsequiously, “Of course Sir, please pardon my error. Your poor servant awaits your pleasure.”

 

Enjolras chuckled and returned to his papers, silently counting down the seconds in his head until Grantaire once again felt compelled to break the silence – he got to six.

 

“Of course I mean that literally, _your pleasure_. Because you know that’s pretty much what I’m here for. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now how much I enjoy _your pleasure_. And isn’t it just a wonderful coincidence that all of the things that please you also please me? Well, not identically. I mean, you get off on beating me and I get off on _being_ beaten by you, not beating you back. So yeah, complimentary pleasure derivation. Isn’t that wonderful? Like the fact that you’re such a fucking pushy top, and I love bottoming for pushy tops, or the way that you love hearing your name when we fuck and it’s the only word I can ever seem to remember once you’ve got me on my knees. Or how I know you want to hold me underwater and fuck me and watch me go limp under you until you have to drag me back up by my hair and leave me gasping for air and hey, _I really fucking want that too._ ”

 

“Are you quite finished?” interrupted Enjolras in a bored tone, turning to the index section of a book and searching for some obscure legal case.

 

“Not really,” sulked Grantaire, “I was going to describe in lurid detail how you could- ”

 

“Don’t presume to tell me what to do,” snapped Enjolras with steel enough in his voice to instantly quiet his mouthy lover, “I was going to say that when you were quite finished you could get up and go wait for me in the bathroom, but such presumption hardly deserves a reward. Strip.”

 

Grantaire opened his mouth to reply, thought better of it, closed his mouth, then opened it again before standing and wordlessly obeying the command. Something about the way Enjolras didn’t even bother to watch just went straight to his cock and by the time he was naked he was also half hard.

 

Interminable moments passed until Enjolras said in a clipped, businesslike tone and still without looking up, “Fine. Now go into our room, get the lube and the large plug, and come back out here. If you so much as think of touching yourself I will whip you raw.”

 

Grantaire bit back a whine and complied, scurrying out of the room to grab the necessary supplies and returning to Enjolras’s side in record time. Again Enjolras allowed the silence to stretch on and on while Grantaire waited, trying not to fidget, as his lover calmly perused the notes in front of him.

 

“Alright,” said Enjolras, finally looking up and making Grantaire’s heart leap into his throat in doing so, “Get on your knees. As punishment for being an impatient cockslut you can make yourself useful to me and open up that hole of yours. Start with two fingers and get that plug in before I finish this reading about this case. And if I hear a single noise I’ll get the gag out, tie you to the bed, and put you in a cock ring until you’ve learned to wait for whatever I decide to give you. You may begin.”

 

Fucking hell, Grantaire loved Enjolras when he got all imperious. His naturally aristocratic features made him a master of cold aloofness, all hard eyes and sharp cheekbones; his golden hair seemed to crackle with carefully contained rage and the turned-away jut of his hips and shoulders spoke of having much better things to do with his time than deal with needy subs. God how Grantaire loved it.

 

Two slick fingers slid in easily enough, the difficult part was containing the moan that threatened to burst from his chest. Grantaire bit his lip hard and the sharp pain was a relief of sorts; his cock was rising again, every thought of his debasement on his knees while Enjolras seemingly couldn’t care less spiking his arousal further. He pressed a third finger in a little too soon and he was unable to stifle the gasp that parted his lips. He froze, but the marble statue at the table seemed too engrossed in study to have noticed the momentary lapse in discipline on his part.

 

Grantaire breathed out quietly, steadying himself, then added more lube and returned to his task, pressing deeply inside himself and diligently avoiding his prostate so as not to accidentally moan again. He began scissoring his fingers when he felt he could take it, and by the time Enjolras murmured, “Two minute warning,” he was ready to start easing the plug in.

 

The ‘large’ plug wasn’t really so big, Enjolras had been immovable on that point when they had bought it with the express purpose of Grantaire being ordered to wear it for extended periods, but it was large enough to make its presence known as Grantaire pushed the widest part through his entrance. As it finally bottomed out inside him he almost forgot himself again and let out a sigh of relief; luckily he resisted. Instead he sat still and silent and achingly hard and full yet not quite full enough, patiently waiting for Enjolras’s next instruction like a good boy.

 

After another minute or so Enjolras evidently finished his chapter, because he reached for the bookmark and closed the text. He shuffled his loose papers into a rough order, spread them out over the table again, and reshuffled them before replacing them in a ringbinder. He lined up the book and the binder to be perfectly parallel to both one another and the edges of the table then fussily arranged his pens in height order beside them. He tidied up his work with the sort of meticulous precision that he usually regarded as a complete waste of time, and not once during the lengthy process did he deign to glance at Grantaire’s tensely held body or make any noise save the rustling of paper.

 

At long last he turned to face his penitent sub, looking down his aquiline nose at the naked, kneeling man beneath him.

 

"Are you quite finished?" he asked once again, his tone matter-of-fact.

 

"Yes Sir," mumbled Grantaire quietly, averting his eyes from the harshness of Enjolras's gaze. 

 

"And how are you feeling, that greedy hole of yours filled and plugged?"

 

"Not enough," whined Grantaire, clenching around the plug and knowing that no toy would ever be enough, not compared to having Enjolras inside him.

 

Enjolras sighed as if he were being seriously inconvenienced by the entire situation. "I thought not. A whore like you is never satisfied. Clearly I haven't put you to enough use recently, I should have known that sooner or later you'd start whining like a bitch in heat. Do you need to be fucked?"

 

"Please," Grantaire breathed, his cock twitching heavily between his legs.

 

Enjolras took a threatening step forward growling, "Please _what?_ "

 

"Please _Sir!_ " Grantaire hastily amended, "Please fuck me Sir, please use me."

 

"Insolent whore," Enjolras sniffed haughtily, slapping Grantaire hard across the face and making the submissive man moan, "Get into the bathroom before I change my mind."

 

A jerk of the blond head indicated that Grantaire was to stand, which he did stiffly before taking himself quickly to the bathroom to await further instructions, his knees hitting the cold tile floor with a welcome thud of dull pain. This time Enjolras didn't keep him waiting, appearing at the door almost as soon as Grantaire had settled onto his knees and striding over to the basin. Like their big rolltop bathtub it was old and ornate, deep, with a graceful tap arching over the sink like a silver swan's neck. Deep enough to drown a man in, no question.

 

Enjolras dropped the plug into the sink hole and turned on the cold tap, filling the basin with chilly water. As the splashing sounds filled the bathroom he rounded on Grantaire and looked him up and down impassively until Grantaire began to squirm under the scrutiny. 

 

"Up," Enjolras commanded, and Grantaire lurched back to his feet. Enjolras circled him predatorially, tangling long fingers into the back of Grantaire's curls and pulling his head backwards to hiss into his ear, "You're mine to do with as I please, aren't you? You'd let me do anything at all to you. Slut."

 

Grantaire whimpered and tried to nod but Enjolras's grip in his hair was too tight. Instead he gave a strangled noise of wanting which Enjolras chuckled at, releasing the curls and scraping his fingernails slowly down from the back of his lover's neck to the base of his spine, leaving deep red marks as he went. He made Grantaire gasp with a sharp slap to his arse then spread his cheeks to admire the base of the plug, carefully pressing on it a few times until Grantaire was moaning almost continually.

 

Then suddenly he was gone, snapping off the tap now that the basin was full. 

 

"Come here," he beckoned, and Grantaire was instantly at his side. "Brace your forearms on the edge of the sink and spread your legs. Not a sound."

 

Grantaire bit his lip and complied, staring down into the sink, the white porcelain reflecting only a hazy silhouette of his head with his overlong curls dipping into the water and chasing ripples across its surface. A shiver of relief ran down his spine; no questions now, no choices, no words. Just Enjolras.

 

Enjolras watched that shiver and bit his own lip; he had been affecting nonchalance all evening for Grantaire's benefit but the tenting in his trousers left no doubt as to how much seeing his submissive like this stirred him. He ran a firm hand down Grantaire's flank, appreciating the swell of muscle there, so unlike his own lean frame, then trailed a finger between his arse cheeks. Grantaire squirmed but stayed silent like the good, obedient boy Enjolras knew him to be.

 

The blond tapped the base of the plug once, just to snap Grantaire's attention back from whatever level of subspace he was currently drifting into, then slowly began working the toy in and out, twisting and pressing it, fucking Grantaire in languid movements that he knew were nowhere near enough for his lover. 

 

"Good boy," murmured Enjolras as Grantaire just took what was being given to him, and he allowed the quiet whine that the praise drew from the dark-haired man. "God, I wish I could keep you like this all the time. Plugged and slick and so hard for me."

 

Enjolras wrapped a hand around Grantaire's straining cock and pumped once for emphasis, making the sub moan. That was it, that was what he had been waiting for. With one last squeeze of Grantaire's cock Enjolras removed both of his hands before spanking Grantaire hard once again.

 

"I remember instructing you not to make a sound,” he snapped viciously, “Apparently you need help to obey even the simplest of orders."

 

The only warning Grantaire had was the fist curled into his hair before he was plunged face first into the water, cold and sudden and all encompassing. It was better than a gag or a blindfold or a hand around his throat, it was all of those things at once, sharp and icy, and sure, maybe there was something vaguely Freudian about wanting to be immersed like this - an ersatz return to the womb - Grantaire had read enough psychology books to know these things, but he couldn't have cared less as the totality of his submission enveloped him. He opened his eyes and the white of the basin was a burst of blinding light, clinical and clean. He gasped and cold water rushed into his mouth, choking him and lancing a sharp pain through his head. And above everything was Enjolras, the knowledge that he was being held there by _Enjolras_ , his dominant's hand heavy on the back of his head and his very life in the blond's hands. It was bliss.

 

Grantaire could have sobbed when Enjolras wrenched him back to the air a minutes or two later, had he not been too busy coughing wetly. 

 

Enjolras waited for the coughing to subside, one hand still possessively curled around the back of Grantaire's neck, before he reached down and slowly slid the plug out, making Grantaire whimper piteously.

 

"Shhh," Enjolras warned, knowing it would do no good; Grantaire was loud and that was a fact. It was a fact that he could use to his advantage in this scene however, pressing two fingers inside his lover and finding him delightfully wet and welcoming, nudging his prostate to draw another helpless groan from Grantaire.

 

"Desperate whore," whispered Enjolras into Grantaire's ear, nuzzling his soaked curls while continuing to finger him lazily, pressing against that magic spot again and again until Grantaire's moans filled the bathroom. "You just can't help it can you?" he goaded, nipping at Grantaire's earlobe, "Can't keep that slutty mouth shut..."

 

Enjolras twisted his fingers in exactly the way he knew Grantaire loved at the same time as biting down hard at the juncture of his lover's throat and shoulder, rewarded by the loud, high-pitched whine he had hoped for. 

 

Instantly Grantaire found himself submerged and unable to breathe, Enjolras's hand a hot, controlling pressure on the back of his neck. His body began to panic, his heart racing and his gasping lungs sending danger signals to his brain, adrenaline beginning to pump through him, but his mind was blissfully quiet and content. His world was dark and silent, a peaceful vacuum all of his own. He let out a blissful sigh that turned to bubbles as he felt Enjolras press the head of his cock to his hole, pushing slowly inside the pliant body beneath him. 

 

Grantaire was dizzy, lightheaded, his mouth slack and full of water as he drifted blissfully, the only thing anchoring him to the real world Enjolras's slow drag inside of him, the thrusts gradually building up in speed and intensity until Grantaire was barely hovering on the edge of consciousness. He was rudely jerked back to reality a moment later when Enjolras once again pulled him up by his hair, oxygen rushing back into Grantaire's lungs with a dizzying gasp and his eyes snapping open sharply, water cascading down from his curls over his naked body. Enjolras was still inside him, one hand heavy on his hip and the other fisted tightly in his hair, holding Grantaire's head up as the dark haired man spluttered the air back into his lungs.

 

"Fucking hell 'Aire," Enjolras breathed, keeping his thrusts shallow and slow, just enough to remind them both he was still there, "Fuck."

 

"Please," Grantaire gasped, vaguely surprised to hear how wrecked his voice sounded and so far down already that he couldn't even manage to gasp out the appropriate honorific, " _Please_."

 

"Forearms on the sink," Enjolras ordered, keeping a fist in Grantaire's hair to keep his face out of the water for now but bringing his other hand up to press between the man's shoulders, guiding him down. Once Grantaire was bent over Enjolras picked up the pace with his hips, slamming into Grantaire hard and brutally, a small part of him dimly wondering whether the sink was strong enough to support their combined weight. Grantaire was giving him little grunts and whimpers with every stroke, his breathing harsh but no longer the desperate, sucking gasps of a few moments before. Enjolras judged him recovered enough to plunge his face back into the cold water, the sudden, tight clench around his dick enough to show Grantaire's gratitude. He returned the gesture with another sharp slap to Grantaire's behind, a satisfying handprint flaring on the pale skin as Grantaire's body jerked pleasurably.

 

Enjolras knew he wouldn't last much longer. Fucking Grantaire from behind was just about his favourite activity, but watching Grantaire submit to this kind of treatment _while_ being fucked from behind? Enjolras wasn't going to last much longer at all. He curled a fist around Grantaire's cock and found it slick with precome as he began to pump him roughly, just how he knew his lover needed it. Enjolras had always been a quick study and learning Grantaire's body had been no less important to him than passing his bar exam. He was able to judge it almost down to the second, bringing Grantaire off and yanking him up from the submersion almost simultaneously, allowing Grantaire to experience the twin ecstasies of orgasm combined with oxygen rush.

 

Grantaire's chest was heaving as Enjolras spilt inside him seconds later, a low groan rumbling through the blond as the rhythm of his hips faltered then gradually stopped They both remained like that for a few minutes, wrapped around one another and panting hard, one of Enjolras's arms curled protectively across Grantaire's chest to keep their bodies flush together. 

 

"You ok?" asked Enjolras at last, his voice quiet and calm in the suddenly silent bathroom.

 

Grantaire nodded, words not coming easily to him as he swam towards the shallows of subspace. He allowed Enjolras to tug him to a standing position and wrap a warm towel around his shoulders before cleaning them both off with a damp washcloth. Docilely he followed Enjolras into their bedroom and let the blond carefully towel off his hair and wrap him in a red hoodie. By the time Enjolras returned from the kitchen with a glass of water and a plate of orange segments, Grantaire was able to raise a dazed smile and whisper huskily, "Thank you."

 

Enjolras pressed a kiss to his still damp curls and tucked the hoodie tighter around Grantaire's shoulders.

 

"Whatever you need, my love."


End file.
